It being a gay morning
with the birds joyfully chirping
the wind noiselessly whispering
the sun lazily rising
the donkeys constantly braying
the horses frequently galloping
the dogs randomly barking
the street vendors incessantly shouting
the children soundly sleeping
the women busily cooking
the men tenderly gardening
the day extensively stretching
with activities 
dramatically lessening
as it being a Sunday in the opening.
Meenas Poems 